Zen saw the answer in her eyes. He brought his hands to his face. A violent tremor passed through his body. And then he stilled. When he straightened, his hands slipping from his face to curl into fists at his sides, the wild, frenetic look had left his eyes. They were cold, black, and inscrutable, a night without stars. “I have chosen my path. If you are not with me, then you are against me,” he said, and she knew she had lost him.
